


To The Silver Screen

by Spicyheart



Series: Trying Again Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Scary Dean Winchester, Supernatural tv show, The Fates - Freeform, The Fates as screenwriters, Time Travel Fix-It, mentions of Dean Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:36:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicyheart/pseuds/Spicyheart
Summary: A companion piece to my series "Trying Again" focusing on the Fates and their career in screenwriting. The story will not make much sense unless you've read Trying Again.





	To The Silver Screen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers. This is a companion piece to my ongoing long form work Trying Again, featuring characters and plot threads that popped into my head and that I need to regurgitate onto unsuspecting Archive Users in order to keep my dark mistress aka muse satisfied for another full moon. There might be more of these later.
> 
> Comments make me happy. Just saying :)

“No, really girls. We’re going to have to stop pushing the Apocalypse.” Clotho and Lachesis stared at her for a few seconds before they burst out laughing.

“You had me there for a second, Atropos. Stop the Apocalypse? That would be insane!” Lachesis laughed.

“I’m not joking!” The youngest Fate seethed. She had just popped back in time, replacing her old self in the living room. It hadn’t changed much over the last thirty years, she knew that much. The only difference was that the beige rug beneath her feet no longer had blood splatters all over them.

“Surely you are not suggesting we simply abort a plan we’ve been working on for half of infinity?” Clotho asked, always the more subdued one.

“It’s either that or see it all go to shit when our characters begin ignoring the Script.” Her two sisters gaped, and Atropos gave it a moment to sink in.

“People can’t ignore the Script.” Lachesis protested half hearted. This wasn’t the sort of thing they even joked about. Their whole existence hinged on the fact that their word was freaking law. They were the ones God outsourced his work to when he was off on an eternal sabbatical away from his children. It was a good thing too, because that man was an abysmal writer.

“The Winchester brothers can, apparently. I’ve watch them avert Armageddon, end the Apocalypse, and then go on to kick the ass of every fail-safe we had in place. You should see the world thirty-five years from now. It’s a freaking mess! Heaven is ruined, Purgatory was opened and then closed, Hell has been reformed beyond recognition, The Darkness escaped her prison, Death got killed...” Atropos found herself ranting. Clotho was at her side, rubbing her shoulder to keep her from getting too worked up. None of them liked disorder, and this was getting bad.

“They don’t follow the rules: any of them. We were powerless to stop them.”

“Is that why you came back? To stop them?” Clotho had not stopped rubbing her shoulder, and Atropos was glad for it. She sank down on the couch, suddenly exhausted. It had been a long day, watching her siblings die at the hands of the scariest man in the universe.

“No. Dean Winchester agreed they had made a mess, and then Sam died -- again -- and he decided he had enough and forced me to let him make these changes.” She exchanged glances with both of her sisters, who were looking genuinely concerned now. “He killed the two of you as an incentive.”

“So he’s here? In 1983?” Lachesis was speaking now, always the practically minded. Atropos nodded, but immediately shut down the glint in the middle sister’s eyes.

“Don’t you dare go after him, LaLa. You have no idea what you are dealing with.” She said sternly.

“Then tell us what we’re dealing with. How far has a strayed from the Script?”

“Not that far, personality-wise. To be honest, the changes seem to be just a logical continuation of what we wrote. He’s defiant and has a self-destructive streak a mile wide, Dial up the alcoholism and down the pining over Daddy Dearest, and that’s him, in all his glory. I know it doesn’t sound that scary, but the guy is freaking unstoppable when he puts his mind to something. Oh, and the whole let’s put him in Hell and teach him how to torture people thing? Bad idea, believe me.”

Lachesis mulled the information over for a while, before Clotho spoke.

“It kind of sounds like you have a crush on him.” Atropos flushed, and Lachesis adopted her most gleeful smile.

“Oh my god, she does! Our little Aisa is in love with the bad boy hunter!”

“I’m not!” Atropos protested. “He’s the guy who killed you!” Lachesis waved it off.

“Details. You’ve always had a danger streak, sis. We haven’t forgotten your thing with Ares. Is he hot?”

“Well, yes...” Lachesis squealed in delight. Alright, that’s enough.

“Shut it, both of you! Are we aborting the Apocalypse, or what?”

“How are we supposed to do that? It’s not just us pushing for it, and if we start making changes, people will notice. I don’t know about you two, but I am not keen on having a pissed off Michael storm in here either.”

“We don’t have to change anything. All we have to do is retire and stop working towards it.”

“So, what? We just stop working?”

“Exactly. And I suggest we lay low for a while after.”

“And what are we supposed to do after that?” None of the sisters were keen on the idea of being unemployed for the very first time. Atropos shrugged.

“Skip town, I suppose. We don’t want Michael on our ass, but we want Dean even less.”

“You sure about that, sis? You’ve always struck me as the kinky type.” And there was the teasing again. Atropos cuffed Lachesis up the head to make her shut up.

“I’m serious here.”

“I agree with Atropos. I think we should move right now.” Clotho spoke up. And that was all they needed. They packed their belongings as quickly as possible. Most of it was page upon page of the Script. Atropos glanced over at Clotho, who was holding a thick stack of papers that she recognized as the Apocalypse.

“I guess we won’t need this anymore.” She looked from the pages to the paper bin. They all hesitated for a moment. This was their most important work. It contained some of their favorite characters ever. Atropos personally preferred Jo Harvelle. Throwing it away felt like sacrilege.

“Surely there must be something else we could use it for? It’s a good story.”

“Yeah. Retirement doesn’t mean we stop working, right?” Atropos said. They were all staring at the thick folder like it was the freaking One Ring.

“You know what we could make out of this?” Lachesis mused. “A really kick-ass TV show. What do you think?”

“I concur.”

“Yeah... that sounds good.”

“Alright girls. We’re headed to LA to become screenwriters. Anyone got an idea for a title?”

“How about Supernatural?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
